


Submission

by spinner33



Series: CM - Close to Canon [12]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: M/M, Mild BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 14:02:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5208557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinner33/pseuds/spinner33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid wants to fulfill one of Hotch’s secret desires, and he wants to conquer one of his own fears at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“But I don't feel too strange for you. Don't know exactly what you do."_

_Madonna - Rescue Me_

Reid came into Hotch’s office around noon and closed the door, and asked quietly for a few hours of personal time. Hotch, knee-deep in paperwork from the most recent cases, was more than a little irritated by the interruption.

“Why?”

“I have to do some field work,” Reid answered.

“Why would you need to use personal time for field work?”

“You said only last week that I had thirty-six hours of personal time to use before December 31st. As I recall, you threatened my hamstrings if I didn’t take time off.”

Reid offered a cryptic, timid smile, toying with his hands, twisting his fingers inside and out of each other. He shot Hotch a furtive, stealthy glance, and Aaron started to get truly annoyed. Hotch had made mention of the personal time, and he had perhaps made an unwise remark about hamstrings, but that was only because at the time of the remark, Reid had been standing across the library, sorting books, stacking books, bending up and down, up and down, with nary a moment’s thought to the fact he was tempting Hotch with his ass with every move he made.

The first thing that came to Hotch’s mind was that Reid had found a new book of erotica and he wanted to spend some quality time with himself. Maybe that was unkind, maybe it wasn’t.

“You plan to slither out of here into the sunshine while I’m six files deep in paperwork. You are a swine,” Hotch whispered.

A smile twitched on Reid’s face.

"It's supposed to rain this afternoon, if that's any consolation."

“I suppose you can go. If you wanted to make yourself truly useful, you’d go buy a pair of fuzzy handcuffs and a spreader bar, and be waiting in bed at home for me.”

“But it’s Thursday,” Reid gasped, blushing. Because that was a reason? No sex on Thursday? When did they decide that?”

“See you tomorrow morning then,” Hotch grunted, amused. If Reid wanted an afternoon to lie in bed and read dirty fiction, and he had all the time to use, Hotch was willing to be indulgent. Once. Besides, it was kinda fun to imagine him all bundled under his covers and thinking about Hotch. ‘He’d better be thinking about me,’ Hotch frowned to himself.

“I’ll be back in two hours,” Reid promised. He leapt to his feet, and he was gone. His gait was anxious, quick, jerky. Hotch wondered what the hell Spencer was up to.

Two came and went. Before long, it was three, and Hotch was watching his office clock, counting quarter-hour intervals. By three- thirty, he was counting individual minutes. By four he was watching every second.

At 4:07, his phone rang. The call was from Reid’s number. 

“Reid, where are you?” Hotch grumbled. “This is not two hours.”

“Are you Hotch? Are you Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner?” asked a voice he did not recognize.

“Who is this, and where is Doctor Reid?” Hotch demanded, standing to his feet. Morgan and Prentiss both heard him. Their heads popped up.

“Are you Hotch?”

“Yes. Where is Dr. Reid?”

He’s here with me,” the voice replied. “I’m Jen. He needs your help.”

Hotch’s knees turned to water. He reached for his gun and his badge.

“Let me talk to Dr. Reid,” Hotch demanded. Morgan was on his feet, grabbing his gun and badge and jacket, and Prentiss followed suit.

“He’s in no condition to talk. I’m going to give you an address.”

“If you harm him…..if you do anything….if you…if….” Hotch couldn’t put a sentence together. So many emotions burst through him at once, threatened to choke him from the inside out. This was real. He was not dreaming this.

“Look, Mr. Hotch, seriously, I did not hurt him. But you need to get here fast, because there is something really wrong with him.”

“Where is he? Where are you?” Hotch growled. Jen gave Hotch an address that he did not recognize, and hung up.

Hotch was raced to the elevators, and without a word having to be said, Prentiss and Morgan fell into step with Hotch, lined up beside him in the elevator, checked their weapons, slid badges and credentials into their pockets, slipped arms into their jackets.


	2. Chapter 2

Hotch did the thirty minute drive in just under twenty. They erupted from the main street into a back alley in DC, and Hotch narrowly missed colliding with a dumpster that occupied most of the space.

They piled out of the SUV and pounded on the steel door marked “C”.

An androgynous person dressed in black answered the door, and lit up like a ray of sunshine.

“Merry Christmas to me,” he/she purred, eyes devouring them hungrily. Hotch pulled out his badge and Prentiss and Morgan followed suit. “Business or pleasure?” the clerk asked, taking Hotch’s badge to examine it more closely. Red nails clicked together as the badge was handed back. “You’re Hotch?” All the play left the clerk’s face, and the voice became noticeably more male. “Come with me,” he ordered.

All three agents entered the dreary back hallway, walls lines with aged, peeling wallpaper. Telephone numbers and offerings for various sexual acts were scrawled in great detail. Morgan tilted his head and could not help but shudder as he read some of things people were willing to do.

They emerged from the hallway into the storeroom of an adult toy and costume shop, and were led through into the store itself. A girl in tight pink leather with heavy black boots leapt off her perch on top of the counter, drying off her face and approaching them.

“Please, God, tell me one of you is Hotch.”

“Where is Dr. Reid?” Aaron demanded. This must have been Jen. She pulled Reid's phone off the counter and handed it to Hotch. Her eyes were red from crying, and her face was streaked with tear tracks through her makeup. The young woman took him by the arm and hauled him towards the storeroom and hallway again. When Derek and Emily attempted to follow, she put up a hand in their faces.

“No. Just Hotch. Only him. Not you.” 

“Hotch…this….is….” Emily protested.

“NO!” the young woman shouted angrily, fists balled up, her face a mask of pain and anger. She looked like a wraith about to explode, her short blonde hair jerking around her face.

“Wait here,” Hotch said to Prentiss and Morgan, motioning for Jen to lead on, that he would follow. Jen opened a door and pounded up a circular staircase in her boots, presumably on her way to an upstairs floor. Hotch made his way behind, wishing he could not feel the entire framework of the staircase sway with the addition of his weight. Prentiss shook her head at Hotch and waited at the bottom of the stairs.

Morgan was waiting with the androgynous clerk, admiring the tracing of tattoos and black leather and frayed netting that the clerk was dressed in.

“Those are fantastic,” Derek murmured. “Wait. I wanna show you mine. Hold on a sec.”

Morgan put away his badge and started taking off his jacket. 

“Before I let you in here, I just want you to know that I did NOT hurt him,” Jen said in a small, scared voice. She was no more than a girl really, Hotch decided, standing behind her at the first metal door in a series of five. Upstairs apartments above the store itself, Hotch surmised. He would have guessed Jen was a young as sixteen but no more than twenty. She slipped a key in the lock and entered the darkness. Hotch fought desperately to quell the horror and bile rising in his throat.

A form moved around on the floor on the other side of the bed. Hotch instinctively reached for his gun and also for a light switch. He found a switch, but no light came on. Jen moved to end of the bed and tentatively knelt down.

“Dr. Reid?” she said. “Hotch is here.”

Aaron put away his gun and flew the ten paces, and went down beside the bed, reaching for the form.

Reid came alive with a horrified, shaking scream that rattled the entire room, and Hotch recoiled from the sound. He could hear Emily running up the stairs. Jen flew to the door and locked it and sat down in front of it, keeping her back to the door as Prentiss pounded and shouted.

Hotch took out his phone and dialed. There was a ring in the hallway.

“HELLO!?” Emily replied.

“Wait downstairs,” Hotch ordered again.

Prentiss hung up the phone, but Jen could distinctly hear, “Motherfuck, Hotch, you're killing me!” being muttered behind her. Hotch probably heard it too but didn’t care.

Hotch sat an inch closer to Reid, where he was balled up next to the bed, trembling. He was wearing handcuffs. He was not wearing his jacket or sweater. Or his slacks, Hotch realized, seeing these items on the chair beside the bed as his eyes adjusted to the extremely-low amount of light coming through the heavy brown paper on the wall of metal windows opposite.

“He came in in early afternoon,” Jen began, inching closer to the bed but staying out of range. “He said he needed help on a case, showed me photographs, asked me about the equipment, asked me how each of the objects would be used. He asked if we had the stuff. Then he asked if I would show him how to use them properly. I said only in private.”

“Reid?” Hotch whispered, easing one hand forward. Spencer withdrew further away, curling up one shoulder and keeping his eyes closed. “It’s Hotch. Tell me what happened.”

Jen inched closer yet, climbing on the end of the bed. When Reid didn't reply, she did.

“I brought him up here to my place. I mean, come on, you can tell by looking at him that he’s not dangerous. Maybe he thought the same about me. He was going to be the one wearing cuffs and a spreader bar, so I felt safe enough. Gary is just downstairs, and this guy is not going to pull anything funny. Maybe he’s kinky. Maybe he’s curious. Maybe he really does need help on a case,” she rambled. 

“Spencer?” Hotch whispered again.

“I put the bar on him first, because in case I’m wrong and he is some psycho with a badge, at least I know he won’t be able to move well or far with those on.”

Hotch reached out again, this time in search of a foot or an ankle. He found a cold metal bar where he thought a foot might have been. He inched along the bar towards the left, and found a warm leather cuff was buckled around Reid’s bare ankle. A search to the right revealed a leather cuff on his right ankle as well. His feet were about twenty- four inches apart, but Hotch could tell by the construction of the bar itself that it could be extended or contracted.

Reid was shivering. Having finally made physical contact, Hotch kept hold of one foot, stroking slowly and soothing. He closed his eyes and let himself imagine Reid’s long legs bound and spread apart. Hotch absolutely hated himself for the hard-on that was starting to wake up in his pants.

“Go on,” he said to Jen.

“He sat on the bed. He was a bit pale but okay, I thought. So I put the handcuffs on him,” Jen said, brushing her face. “He went real quiet, and started kinda shaking, you know, twitching and shaking. He was looking at me, but looking through me. He was seeing someone else. There was something wrong.”

“Why didn’t you take them off?” Hotch growled. Jen sniffled.

“He wouldn’t let me near him. I got hold of his arm, but he started screaming and screaming and screaming for you and he wouldn’t stop. He scared the hell out of me. I dropped the key. It’s under the bed somewhere.”

Hotch sighed with annoyance. “Can you turn on a goddamn light?”

“The lamp is broke,” she sniffed. Hotch let go of Reid’s foot, pulled out his flashlight, and rolled down to the floor, peering under the bed. Through a pile of jeans, shirts, undergarments, spare change, a pair of flip-flops, a book, an old newspaper, and a frightened cat (!) Hotch spotted the key.

“It’s on your side,” he said, handing Jen the flashlight and pointing. The cat skittered across the room and headed for shelter in a different dark corner.

“Trent, cut it out,” the girl chided, crawling under the bed. She came up with the key, and carefully gave it to Hotch. He put the end of his flashlight in his mouth and reached for Reid’s hands as Spencer dodged the beams of light and recoiled further away. The white shirt that Reid was wearing was completely see-through when the light bounced across it.

“Reid, come on. Gimme your hands,” Hotch cajoled, taking the flashlight out of his maw and balancing it on the table beside the bed.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Jen worried.

“I need to get him out of these, and he should be fine,” Hotch bluffed. “He’s borderline autistic. This is called a fugue state. He goes into these sometimes when he’s in significant distress.”

Jen stared at Hotch and nodded as if what he had said made sense. Reid leaned his head back against the bed and avoided the light, looking towards the headboard and closing his eyes. Jen reached over and stroked Reid’s hair. Her short pink nails were bitten to the quick. He did not recoil from her touch. He held still, and Hotch was able to release the cuffs from his wrists.

Jen sat closer to Reid, coiling up around his shoulders, continuing to caress his hair.

“It’s only dreams,” she whispered. “Dreams go away when you wake up. Dreams are nothing to be afraid of. Dreams can’t hurt you.”

Hotch concentrated on unbuckling Reid’s ankles, not interrupting Jen as she spoke.

“Whoever hurt you, they’re not here. It’s Hotch, and Jen. Do you remember now?”

“M….Mariner,” Reid gasped.

“Oh fuck,” Hotch muttered. He had known Reid might eventually remember the events that had happened, but here and now, this was not the time or place. How inconvenient were the quirks of this gifted mind.

Jen glanced over at Aaron, eyes scared and puzzled. Hotch sat up, and Jen did as well. Hotch put both arms around Reid and hauled him to his feet. He hoped it would shake Reid back to reality. 

“Be careful,” Jen cautioned.

“Dr. Reid, listen to me. Mariner is not here. He is not going to hurt you, not again. He’s under lock and key in Leavenworth, Kansas, and he is never getting free, ever. I promised you I would never, ever take you anywhere near Leavenworth, didn’t I?”

“Mm hmm,” Reid nodded, eyes not focusing on Hotch even though Aaron held his face cupped in both hands.

“Spencer, he is not going to hurt you again, okay?” 

“Mm hmm,” Reid nodded again.

“I don’t know what you thought you were doing here. You don’t have to prove anything to me,” Hotch whispered.

Reid shook his head no. Hotch kissed him gently on the mouth and pulled him close and rocked him in place. Reid lifted his arms around Hotch’s neck and held on tight. Hotch had almost forgotten about Jen being in the room, at least until she cleared her throat and gave a small, nervous laugh.

“I’ll….um….wait downstairs,” Jen said. She climbed off the bed and headed for the door, closing it behind herself.

“I’m going to take you home now,” Hotch whispered against Reid’s cheek. “Let’s get you dressed.”


	3. Chapter 3

At Hotch’s house, Aaron and Spencer headed for the study. They spent an hour or two listening to the rain outside and the quiet inside, seated together on the couch, arms around one another. Reid was the first to speak and move.

“The best way to conquer a fear is to confront it. You have always said that.”

Reid planted himself at Hotch’s feet and submitted his hands to him, wrists together.

“When was the last time you were forcibly restrained?” Hotch asked, putting one hand around both slender wrists.

“M…Mariner,” Reid answered as if in a bad dream. He choked the name past his lips.

“You didn’t talk for a week after what he did to you. Hankel before that? Am I right?”

“Mm hmm,” Reid nodded. He was already shaking.

“I would never ask you to submit yourself to this. I was joking with you. Joking. I do not want you in a spreader bar and handcuffs, because I know how frightened you are of being restrained, and with very good reason. It was an offhand remark.”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me. You only have to say the words.” 

“No.”

“I want to belong to you and no one else.” 

“You do belong to me,” Hotch promised.

“There is no one on this planet I trust more than you,” Reid whispered, putting himself against Hotch’s chest, curling one finger under Aaron’s chin, stroking along his jaw. “I know you won’t let anyone hurt me. I know you’ll take care of me. I know you love me, and you’ll always protect me. I also know you know how far I can go if you’re there with me.”

Reid’s finger caressed the edge of Hotch’s bottom lip as his voice dropped low, soft and husky. Hotch couldn’t look away from those seductive eyes. There was no way he would refuse now. He took out his handcuffs and connected them both to Reid’s right wrist.

Spencer looked like his brain might have exploded. He was restrained but he wasn’t, and he couldn’t reconcile the emotions caused by this in-between state.

“Whu…” he stammered.

“Stand up. I want you to remove your jacket. Remove your weapon as well.”

Reid complied, removing his dark brown jacket and taking his gun from his holster. He submitted the weapon to Hotch carefully, and Hotch put the gun on the side table, and put his own firearm there as well.

“Shoes and pants too,” Hotch ordered, pointing to the floor.

Reid took off his shoes but left his pants on. He looked to Hotch for permission again.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Hotch relented.

“I meant what I said. Tell me what you want me to do. There is no one I trust more than you,” Reid whispered.

“Take off your pants,” Hotch commanded. Reid looked at his restrained right hand, and leveled begging eyes at Hotch.

“Would you do it for me?” he whispered, moving his tummy into reach.

Hotch stood up. He delicately unbuttoned Reid’s collar, unstrung his tie, and tossed it over the couch with his jacket. Hotch held Reid’s honey-brown eyes in his gaze as his fingers nimbly untucked the tails of Spencer’s crisp oxford shirt. He undid Reid’s dark brown sweater and left it open to the sides. He unbuttoned the shirt and pushed it open to the sides as well. Reid was wearing the sweater because the shirt was almost see-through in certain lights. Hotch realized Reid was wearing the tantalizing fabric for his benefit alone, and the idea of that made him grateful and hungry. He hadn’t noticed this at work this morning. Why hadn’t he noticed?

Hotch ran a crooked finger up the middle of Reid’s bare ribs, and Spencer shivered. He caught his breath in surprise, and the first hint of fear crept into his eyes. Hotch caressed his stomach this time, his eyes traveling all over Reid.

“Do you want to stop?” Hotch asked.

It took Reid a second to find his voice. “Not yet,” he stammered.

Hotch unbuckled, unbuttoned, and unzipped Reid’s slacks, and dropped down to pull them off of him. He caressed the backs of Reid’s long thighs, and Reid flinched. Spencer gave a soft little sound that made Hotch stand back up and put his arms around him.

“Are you okay?” Hotch asked. 

Reid wouldn’t open his eyes.

“Do you want me to undo the cuffs?” Hotch asked. 

Reid shook his head no.

“You don’t have to do this,” Hotch whispered to him. 

Reid nodded.

“Your heart is racing like a scared rabbit,” Hotch whispered, dotting a kiss to Spencer’s nose, holding onto him and rocking him gently. Reid was falling back into terrified silence. "That’s enough of this. I’m taking them off of you,” Aaron decided.

“I’m okay. It’s….it takes a minute, that’s all,” Reid promised.

Hotch ran both hands down from Reid’s shoulders to his hips. Slowly, he brushed the outside of one spread thigh. Reid breathed loudly, unevenly. Hotch kissed the side of Reid’s neck.

“Hotch…” Reid whimpered. He was shaking.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Please,” Reid shivered, eyes welling. Hotch dropped down and caressed Reid’s right leg, steadying his frame. He reached for the left leg, caressed behind Spencer’s scarred knee, and kissed him tenderly on his patella.

“Is that better? Feeling less threatened?”

Reid shivered and gave no reply. His fingers sought to clutch Hotch's hair.

“It’s okay,” Hotch whispered. He stood up again and circled Reid’s waist with both arms, nuzzling his cheek. It was impossible at this proximity, while leaning into Reid’s body, not to feel the erection straining against his boxers. Spencer was turned on and afraid, and Hotch knew this was playing into the evil triumvirate that Rossi had declared was necessary for Reid to be happy: love and pain and comfort.

“It’s okay,” Aaron promised. “You’re being so strong. I know how hard this is for you.”

“Please….” Reid begged.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Hotch rumbled.

Reid latched onto Hotch’s neck, nibbled, licked, and breathed against his skin. Hotch’s arms moved up Reid’s back, his fingers caressing his spine.

“Can you….would you….please…..Hotch….I…..”

“Tell me what you need,” Hotch answered, getting nose to nose with him.

“Fuck me. Now. Hard. Make me yours again.”

Hotch captured Reid’s begging mouth with a passionate kiss, teasing teeth and tongue, nibbling his bottom lip as he pulled back. He started loosening his own clothes as he pushed Reid down in front of the comfy black couch. Hotch pulled off his shirt and jacket, and dropped his pants and boxers, and threw them on top of Reid’s clothes. He fished around under the couch and found the tube of lubrication he had left there. He slicked up his more-than-ready cock.

Hotch nuzzled along Reid’s spine, pushing his shirt tails aside. It took a couple hard tugs to get Reid’s boxers off of him, but once he was bare except for his opened shirt and sweater, Hotch steadied his swaying frame with one hand on his abdomen, and slid a blunt finger inside his entrance.

Reid called out, shuddering as Hotch prepared him, made him slippery and anxious, left him stretched and begging. Hotch took hold of both slender hips and buried himself with one thrust inside that familiar place he owned. Reid howled with excitement and swayed with each thrust, words tumbling from his mouth.

“Fuck…yes…oh…Hotch…..harder….please….hurt me.”

“Shhh,” Hotch whispered, doing anything Reid asked, impaling him, riding him, and stroking him to completion as they bounced and thrust and collided with one another. The handcuffs jangled on Reid’s wrist like a macabre jester’s bell. Hotch pulled Reid’s arms behind his back and held them tight.

“Harder….” Reid begged again, his voice scratchy and rough. “Harder….Hotch….”

Hotch was seeing stars as he came, and was sure the same was true for Spencer, who all but screamed out. Hotch panted against Reid’s ruffled collar, pulled out of him, slow and slippery. He turned Reid over and sat him up on the couch, right on top of their jumbled clothes (oh hell, those were going to have to go to the dry cleaners).

Hotch brought his cum-smeared hand up to his lips and traced his fingers with his tongue. Spencer watched Hotch’s mouth, watched his tongue, grew more hungry by the second. Aaron felt those smoldering eyes burning into him. He studied Reid’s taut form, toes coiled, trails of semen and sweat and lube smeared between his  
thighs, and he knew what he wanted to do.

Hotch dotted a kiss to Reid’s nose, and took off Spencer’s shirt and sweater, pushing them away to the other side of the couch. He planted a kiss to Reid’s chin, a kiss to his sternum, to his navel, and dropped down between his lover’s spread knees, taking Reid’s cock into his mouth. Spencer groaned out wantonly, eyes closing, head tilting back. Hotch worked his fingers between Reid’s legs, under and inside him. Reid began to mewl softly in pleasure. He was bucking and rocking with each tickle and flick of finger and tongue.

Hotch slowly worked Reid towards a second, even-more blissful orgasm. Spencer breathlessly chanted Aaron’s name before dissolving into a chorus of half-whispered vowels, a litany to Eros.

After a long, hot shower, Reid enthusiastically returned the favor, trading places with Hotch and getting between Aaron's knees in the tub. It was Aaron’s turn to beg and whimper. He never before considered how talented Reid could be with his hands and his mouth working together. They were going to have to do this again, soon, very soon.

By the time they were both exhausted and satisfied, rain was pouring down again, and the study was starting to chill. Reid pulled only his sweater back on and crawled half-naked into Hotch’s arms, burrowing under the throw that had been over the back of the couch. The handcuffs were still attached to his right wrist. Reid seemed to have forgotten them altogether. Hotch booted the ruined clothes onto the floor and stretched out his legs, supporting Reid with the full length of his body.


End file.
